“Oh, double, since I have rebuilt my house.”
“I see. The place is completely changed. You had but a poor sort of a tavern.”
“Yes; and now”—the landlord looked round, smiled, and put his hands into his waistband—"middling good, I think."
“Uncommon,” said Pasco. “I suppose it is the better look of the house that has brought better custom.”
“That’s just it. I had only common wayfarers before—mostly tramps. Now—the better sort altogether. Where I turned over a penny before, I turn over a shilling now.”
“So you rebuilt your public-house to get better business?”
“Well, you see, I couldn’t help myself. The old place caught fire and burnt down.”
“And it did not ruin you?”
“Dear me, no. I was insured.”
“So—that set you on your legs again?”